by Rebecca Diem
“I have been at your side for six years, Captain. I would never—never—deliberately endanger our crew. Please, believe me.”
The man looked stricken. Robbie’s concern seemed genuine, but the Captain Duke could no longer trust him. He knew his guile. It was useful when employed against their enemies, but he was dismayed to be receiving the same treatment. He grabbed Robbie’s shirt and hauled him to his feet.
“You swear you had no knowledge of the soldiers?”
“No, sir.”
The Captain shoved him towards the manor. “You will provide us with a full account of what transpired. Every damned detail. And you are hereby stripped of your duties as an officer.” He turned to the others, “We will continue this discussion inside. The rest of you, tend to the ship.”
Trick began shouting orders for the crew to unload the airship and tend to their duties. A low buzz permeated the clearing. Whispered breaths exchanging rumour and speculation. The Captain Duke ignored them. He was more concerned with the pallor of Nessa’s face. Clara seemed to be supporting her full weight as they moved towards the steps.
“I think I need to lie down,” Nessa said as her knees buckled.
“Help me!” Clara called out, struggling to hold the tall woman upright.
The Captain reached them in three steps, sweeping Nessa into his arms to carry her into the manor. Ashen-faced, Nessa cradled her brow in pain as she leaned against his chest. Her lack of protest at being carried like a babe frightened him. Clara hurried to open the door ahead of them.
Racing through the gallery to his study off the main hall, the Captain directed Clara to clear a stack of maps and books off a long sofa opposite the fireplace. He lowered Nessa onto the seat as Cat and Mouse entered on their heels.
“Water and cloths, now,” he ordered.
Clara fussed with Nessa’s bandages while the Captain Duke looked around the room with displeasure. The many shelves of books and maps were relatively undisturbed, but there were dirty boot prints on his desk, one of his two grand armchairs had been removed from its usual place by the hearth, and the side table he usually kept stocked with a fine scotch now held an empty decanter. He added that to his list of Robbie’s sins. Within minutes, Mouse returned to set a bowl on a nearby table and Cat ran in with a clean sheet and set at it with the small dagger she wore at her side. Clara wet the cloths with the cool water and began to dab at Nessa’s brow. As Nessa’s colour returned, the Captain thanked them and sent them out to their duties before Trick entered with Robbie in tow.
“What happened, Ness?” Robbie asked, crossing the room toward them. One look from the Captain stopped him in his tracks. Nessa opened her eyes to match his glare.
“What do you think happened, Robbie? There were consequences. We were damned lucky to escape,” she said, she shut her eyes again, leaning into Clara’s ministrations.
“Ness, I am so sorry. The Tradists have been guarding their shipments closely this year. Are you badly hurt?”
“Hurt?” her eyes flew open, “You have the audacity–”
The Captain set a hand on her shoulder to prevent Nessa from rising to tear into the pale man, but she continued to speak in deadly tones, “You knew the shipments were being guarded, Robert Codswaddle. They damn near killed us. Your job was to avoid incidents exactly such as this.”
“I swear, I didn’t know!”
The Captain’s temper broke, “It was your job to know. We trusted your information. We trusted you.” His voice rang with fury.
“Captain, please!” called Clara.
He turned at Clara’s interruption with a look that would make brave men cower. Clara glared and dampened the cloth.
“Captain, the shouting is hurting her.”
Nessa massaged her temple, “Oh please, don’t stop on my account. But as much as I am enjoying this little chat, I think it’s time for me to rest.”
The Captain softened, “Will you be alright?”
“It is only a headache. The dizzy spell has passed. Clara can help me up to my rooms.”
He helped her rise and the two women made to leave the room. Robbie inserted himself between them and the door, stumbling slightly as his hands were still bound behind his back.
“Get out of my way,” Nessa said through gritted teeth.
“Ness, please, I cannot undo the results of my negligence, but I swear on my life I will make amends. Please tell me if there is anything I might do to speed your recovery. I will be wretched forever if you do not forgive me.”
“Then you are a wretch,” she said, continuing towards the door.
“Come now, none were lost. I had faith in the competence of our crew to handle a few guards. I did not anticipate the soldiers, but still you managed to defeat them. Do not tell me my confidence was misplaced.”
The Captain felt disgust coil in his stomach at the sight of Robbie’s attempt to charm his way out of trouble. The pirate was charismatic and well-liked by the crew, an asset that was now a liability. Before, Nessa and Robbie would have argued long into the night about this or that, often at odds but always collegial. Now, she regarded him with a loathing compounded by his role in her current state of weakness.
“If Clara hadn’t intervened, we would be dead or worse right now,” she responded.
“Then you have my gratitude, Clara. I am your eternal servant,” he said, bowing to her. “I don’t believe we have met.”
Clara lifted her chin and glared, infusing her narrowed eyes and upright bearing with all the censure and judgement of her true class. The Captain could not help his smirk. He watched with great pleasure as Robbie faltered under her icy scowl. A fearsome lass, that one, he thought.
“This is our stowaway, Robbie. She managed to save our skins twice while your ineptitude nearly cost us everything. We are all in her debt,” said the Captain. He turned to the women, “Go. Rest. I will look in once we are finished here.”
The Captain Duke closed the door after them and took a moment to compose himself before turning. If it were any other pilot he would have them taken care of immediately. Robbie was too great a liability. He had been a leader and the trusted confidante of many. The Captain needed time to gather more evidence, but time could work in the other man’s favour as well. He knew Robbie’s dramatics were intended to shore up his support among the crew. The man was a good actor. It was difficult even for the Captain to know when he was being genuine, and he had known him for years. If Robbie was a traitor, the Captain had a much larger problem on his hand than just one disgruntled pilot. Robbie would not act alone. He needed to determine the extent to which their operation was compromised, and find out how much Robbie’s “sources” knew. For now, the Captain Duke decided that Robbie needed to be reminded why he was not a man to be trifled with.
“I watched them strike her,” he said, still facing the heavy door. “I watched her fall. I thought she was dead.”
He turned, allowing his rage free reign. “I watched the battle turn against our crew in an instant, and I knew, I knew, that we were all lost.”
“And yet, we prevailed,” Robbie swallowed. “We always prevail.”
“No. We only prevail when we can count on each other. I can no longer count on you. We escaped by whatever divine intervention delivered Clara to our airship. Without her we would all be dead or imprisoned at this moment.” He walked to his desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms. “Ease my suspicions, Robbie. Seasons of successful raids and the one that fails disastrously just happens to occur when you and the crewmembers you selected were safely away.”
“Captain, I have served you loyally for years. Can one error undo all our history together? A grave error, I admit, and I feel it acutely. Let me help you. I will find the source of the misinformation. Tell me what I can do to regain your confidence.”
The Captain looked to Trick, silent and watchful, sitting in the corner of the room.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I think we should hang
him.”
The Captain watched with amusement as the blood drained entirely from Robbie’s already pale complexion.
After a long pause, Trick continued, “But, if he is not a traitor, we would do well to accept his aid. Give him the opportunity to prove himself an honest man. If he fails, he’ll answer to my sword.”
The Captain Duke approached the quaking man, unsheathing his knife. “Very well. Robbie, you have one week and you will be watched. I’m certain you understand the consequences should you attempt any escape.” He turned the man around to cut his bindings. Leaning in to Robbie’s ear, he spoke in a low voice edged with thunder, “Leave us.”
“Thank you, sir. Thank you, Captain.”
Visibly shaking with relief, Robbie turned to exit the room. When he opened the door, the frame was filled by Anderssen’s towering form. The Captain Duke nodded, and he escorted Robbie away, closing the door behind them.
The Captain Duke sighed and sank down onto the sofa, leaning back and running his hands through his hair. Trick came over to lean against the mantle opposite him.
“I am getting too old for this, Trick.”
The older man laughed, “Nonsense.”
“I am not as young as I was when we started this. It’s been how long—a decade now? The risks weigh heavier on my mind with each season. There are times I find myself longing for the storm season to begin so we may rest.”
“And you’re a better Captain for it. You care for your pilots and the crew sees it. They will follow you. This conflict with Robbie will blow over one way or another. We’ve been through far worse.”
“Are you never tired of it all?”
“Ah, Captain. I was tired before I ever met you. And then one day this flame-haired snip of a boy stole half a dozen crates of taters from right under my nose. I was ready to strip his hide when I tracked him down. But then I found him handing out the goods to a gaggle of orphans in an alleyway. Do you remember what happened next?”
He laughed, “I nearly pissed myself when you cornered us.”
“And you pulled out your pocketknife, stood your ground, said food belonged to those who needed it most. I believe you made some rather strong statements about my weight at the time as well.”
“The Tradists let you go soft.” The Captain Duke smiled, “I thought you would beat me, and instead you joined me.”
“You inspired me, Captain. You inspire the crew. Good men grow tired but they must go on.” Trick rubbed the greying whiskers of his dark beard, “You ought to find someone to bring back that fire.”
The Captain Duke snorted. But then he sat back and considered Trick’s words. He had been a wild little thing, angered by the injustice he had seen around him. Trick had found him, guided him, supported him in becoming the man he was today. They always navigated the difficult choices together. He did not need to bear the burden alone.
“The raids are becoming a problem. We need a better plan if we are to continue. They’re catching on to us,” he said.
“I know it. Any ideas?”
“Clara had one. She suggested we pretend to be inspectors, target the ports. Take a little from each shipment, but not enough for anyone to take notice. Issue receipts of inspection and the like.”
“Bold as brass, that one. It could work.”
“We’d need disguises. But if she is able to pull it off it would reduce the risk to our crew.”
“Consider it. I think it’s a good plan. We should take a week here at least to allow Nessa to recover. We can gather information and supplies while we wait. Take Clara to see Mrs. Cottingham in town; she’s rather clever with a needle and thread. You can stop in and have a word with Tims at the store. See if he or the others have heard anything about the Tradists’ plans. And take some of the grain with you. They will not be expecting us this time of year.”
“Very well. I’ll go to town tomorrow. But if we are to embark on this new strategy, I’d like to keep the information close. I don’t trust Robbie and we cannot risk a leak. We need to watch the crew and see how they respond to him.”
“Agreed. I’ll sound out some of his people, see where their loyalties lie.”
The Captain and Trick worked out a rough plan for the week and what needed to be done in preparation. Repairs and maintenance on the ships, an inventory of the goods, research into the ports they would target, and all the logistics involved in hosting a full crew of pilots and keeping them occupied for the week. When the Captain Duke rose to leave, Trick stopped him once more.
“Remember your purpose here, Captain. Do not be discouraged by one man’s weakness.”
The Captain Duke nodded, no further words were needed between the two men. They had seen far too much together for any mere declaration of thanks to be sufficient. The Captain left the room reassured of his purpose, ready to face this and any other challenge to come his way.
Chapter 3: In which our heroine explores her new home
Clara supported Nessa as they slowly made their way back through the gallery to the stairs. She had barely noticed the oak panelled walls in their earlier rush. Now she took the time to appreciate her surroundings. Lush occasional chairs and small tables dotted the hall and the landing as they made their way up a grand curved staircase to the second floor. The brass was tarnished and the paintings worn, but light streamed in through tall windows. Faded damask fabric hinted at a former glory, now settled into comfortable squalor in its senescence. The manor carried itself with the impression of stateliness, humble in its decline. They continued down a hall and turned a corner into what she guessed was the east wing by the angle of the light.
“Three doors down on the right,” said Nessa, massaging her head with her free hand.
The door opened to a well-appointed room with large windows that looked out on to the forest. The glass had been scrubbed recently enough, and the room showed signs that great care had been taken to make it comfortable. It might have been a ladies’ dayroom in a previous life. Now it contained a pleasant jumble of mismatched furniture. Cozy armchairs and a chaise longue were scattered around the largest windows as a sort of parlour area. In the adjoining room, a large poster bed and wardrobe dominated the space.
“There’s an empty room next to mine if you like. It’s just through that door,” Nessa pointed.
“Do all pilots have their own quarters here?”
“Not all, some prefer to share. But the officers have first pick and there are plenty of empty rooms for the taking.”
Clara found extra pillows in the wardrobe and made sure Nessa was comfortable in her bed with a good view of the outside. She made herself busy airing out the chests and opening windows while her friend rested. She had done without a lady’s maid for most of her life, preferring to manage her own affairs. Only recently had she made use of one, with all the balls and events she’d had to attend since her entrance into society. A different life, she reminded herself. No need to think on it any longer. She opened the door to the next room and found a charming bedroom with pale green papered walls. She unfastened the shutters and raised the pane to let the breeze blow into the room, allowing herself to enjoy the brush of morning air as she removed the dust cloths from the furniture. Her reverie was interrupted by a creak from the floorboards in the hall.
After a moment of alarm as her door slowly squeaked open, Clara let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Cat’s golden-brown curls peeking around the frame.
“You startled me,” she whispered at the girl.
“Sorry!” she whispered back.
With a significant glance in the direction of the room where Nessa slept, she closed the door while Cat bounced over to the bed.
“So this is your room now? It’s nice. Some are a bit musty, but this one will do. You can choose any you like you know. There’s lots of ‘em.”
“Where is yours?”
“Mine is up in the Bird’s Nest,” she said, beaming with pride. “It’s upstairs in the gable by the big oak tree. You can com
e and see it sometime if you like.”
“I would like that very much,” Clara said.
“How’s Nessa?”
“Better. Too much activity, I suppose. Her vision does seem much clearer, and she has regained most of her balance as well. She does not enjoy being an invalid.”
Cat laughed, “I hope she’s better soon. It’s almost harvest season, and we ought to be out and robbing the Tradists.”
“The last raid was so violent. I’m surprised you have an appetite for it.”
The young girl’s expression changed, her usual bright and open demeanor becoming more guarded. She frowned and stared out the window, silent. Clara felt terrible immediately after speaking.
“Cat, I am so sorry. I did not mean to judge. It’s just not something I am accustomed to. I would just be heartbroken if any harm came to you.”
“I can take care of myself, and Mouse too. I’ve been doing it since I was a babe.”
“I have no doubt of your capabilities. But the Haven would be a lovely place to grow up. Why does the Captain bring you along on these dangerous pursuits if there is an alternative?”
“Well, for one, Mouse and I hate being landlocked. It would be so terribly boring. And Captain would never leave us behind. He swore that he would never.” A bright, hard anger lit Cat’s eyes, “The Tradists took our family. And I will make them pay for it.”
In that moment, Clara could see the indomitable force Cat would become when she was grown. She was fearless, courageous, and her loyalty was absolute. For now, though, she was still a girl. Clara drew her into a hug, “They ought to quake in their beds at night.”
Cat rewarded her with a small smile, but Clara knew she needed to do more to make up for her errant comment.
“I think Nessa will sleep for some time. Will you show me your Bird’s Nest? And perhaps the rest of the manor? I trust that you know every nook and cranny.”
The young pilot beamed at that. After checking on Nessa and receiving an affirmative murmur that she was content, the two of them went to explore.